Disenchanted
by wickedbad
Summary: "You killed them and now you don't even know what's real. Damn, you ain't even sure if you're real no more!" In between the events of the prologue and the game, Josh is placed under psychiatric care. One night, things all go wrong, and Josh is given until darkness ends to discover the source of the hospital's dark past.
1. A Child's Lullaby

**Ocean View Hospital, CA.**  
 **9:00 PM. Hour One.**

 _If you die before you wake,_  
 _Do not cry and do not ache._  
 _Nothing's ever yours to keep._  
 _So close your eyes and go to sleep._

The room had grown increasingly colder throughout the evening, so cold that one could see their breath while inside. Earlier in the week, there had been murmurs of a repairman coming by to fix the heater, but so far no one had shown. This wasn't surprising though, considering how little effort the staff put into maintaining the stability of the hospital. It didn't make sense since it was a business for them, after all.

Throughout the building, a calming green paint had been plastered on the walls, but this was some time ago. The paint was peeling off the musty walls, showing hints of gray from the original drywall underneath. The floor was designed from dirty, square tiles that formed different geometric patterns in their colors; yet, the construction crew had put it together poorly as a few of the diamond shaped pieces were higher than the rest, throwing off the flow of the design. If stared at for too long - as some often found themselves doing - the flaw would make anyone nervous, not just the patients.

Out in the hallway, the lights were dim - in desperate need of a light bulb change - as well as flickering. The walls and floors were decorated with various stains from whatever had happened throughout the years. Beyond that, the absence of noise was nauseating; every single sound throughout the building could be heard if one focused hard enough. The entire scene was rather pathetic.

Then, there was Room 202. The long time patients whispered about it being haunted; it had turned into a game of telephone where no one knew the exact origins of the story. But, one version of the tale had managed to stick the longest. The patients would lower their voices and dart their eyes back and forth to make sure not a single nurse was insight before telling the ballad of Mr. Edward Allen.

In the early 1980s, Edward Allen hung himself in Room 202 during the midst of a psychological breakdown. This, however, occurred after he managed to steal one of the knives from the kitchen and hide it under his mattress. Throughout the day, Edward stayed in his room - an unusual type of behavior - and waited for the nurse to visit him before lights out. When she arrived, he stabbed her in the back fourteen times and used her blood to write his suicide note on the wall, moments before taking his own life. The entire event was especially saddening when learning Edward was days away from his release.

The scene had been quite grotesque and resulted in the room being closed off for over thirty years. Some of the patients, even to present day, refused to walk past it, afraid of whatever it was they might have seen if they wandered too close. And, it stayed that way, until now.

Josh Washington sat in his room, the soft light from his desk lamp illuminating just enough for him to see the small words on the pale page of his book. As he read, he toyed with the torn cover, peeling bits of the material off and flicking them onto the ground below. With a sigh, he leaned back against the limp, yellowed pillow on his bed, cringing as he felt the bars of the headboard press into his back. He placed the book in his lap as he reached his arms out in front of him, interlocking his fingers to stretch them out, resulting in a couple satisfying _pops_. He stared at the meaningless words on the page in front of him; it truly required sheer boredom to read a mediocre book for the fourth time since his arrival. He was beginning to memorize bits of dialogue from the most insignificant scenes.

It would end up alright, though, because he was going to be out of the hospital soon. In fact, he had just had a meeting with his doctor earlier in the day and received the best news he had heard in awhile: his symptoms were improving. He suspected that he would be discharged in less than a week - that is, if his mood remained stable. But, it would; Josh knew it would.

It wasn't like he could spend the rest of his life trapped in a hospital. That sort of living was definitely not what his sis… It wasn't what anyone wanted for him. Well, he assumed this was the case; it wasn't like any of his family or friends had come by to visit him during his stay. In the beginning, he had asked one of the nurses if he was allowed visitation, to which he discovered he was. But, as he found himself saying quite often, it was alright; he would be free soon.

A harsh knock on the metal door startled him out of his thoughts. With a jolt, he straightened himself out on the bed, keeping the book in a distanced position from his body. He peered through the small, gated window into the hallway to see the dim lights were still on; he was usually careful not to stay up past lights out.

The large door creaked open, a bit of chipped white paint falling to the floor with the sudden movement. Josh's heart crashed against the inside of his chest; receiving a mark for staying up past his designated curfew was the last thing he needed before his release.

The light from the hallway poured into the room, lighting only half of it, and revealed a young nurse standing behind the threshold. Leaning forward and causing the bed to creak, he squinted to see if he could recognize the woman.

"Who are you?" He asked, his forehead creasing as he tossed his book to the side, a soft _plop_ following its landing.

The nurse walked into the room, slowly closing the heavy door behind her. She had dark hair that curled at the bottoms - a look that most definitely required much effort before her shift. Her attire was strange as it didn't match the rest of the nurse's uniforms; the faded stripes on her skirt were horizontal rather the vertical, the pattern he was most familiar with.

She smiled widely, exposing her bright teeth, as she stepped toward him, pausing at the end of his bed. "I'm Nurse Mack."

Josh slightly tilted his head to the side as he brought himself closer to her. "I've never seen you before… You aren't one of the regular nurses?" He shook his head as he awaited her response.

"No," She began, reaching down to graze her fingernails against the chipping paint on the bed railing, picking at the specks. "I'm usually stationed a floor up, but tonight I was needed down here."

He nodded, taking his eyes away from the nurse… Something about her made him _uneasy_. Maybe it was simply the fact that she was a stranger to him, regardless of her nametag and uniform. Or, perhaps it was the faded stain on the side of her blouse that really should have been tossed. "I didn't realize it was past lights out… You're not gonna write me up, are you?"

Nurse Mack chuckled, rather inappropriately, as she eyed him. "No, silly!" Her voice was a bit too chirpy, out of place for their setting. "I'm just making the rounds to tell everyone that we're expected to have a nasty storm tonight. We don't want anyone to be unprepared for the thunder and lightning."

"Oh," He nodded, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks. God, he was such a… "Well, alright. Thanks for letting me know. I think I'll be okay; I'm not really afraid of storms."

She nodded, but remained positioned at the foot of his bed, keeping her eyes glued on him while her body stayed frozen. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Josh swallowed hard and cleared his throat, hoping she would get the hint and move along to the next room. She parted her lips and smiled at him, her dark eyes piercing through his body.

"There is one other thing," She paused for a moment to slide her hands into the front pocket of her skirt. In a second, she retrieved a faded envelope and held it in her hand, the folded side facing toward him. He leaned in toward her, hesitant of what accepting the letter might cause. A crease formed in his forehead as he reached out for the envelope, his fingers almost curling around the thin paper before she yanked it away. "Do not open this until you get the signal. If you open it before then, he'll be mad."

She extended her arm and handed him the envelope, to which he hastily grabbed and held tight in his shaky hands. With his forehead tight, he looked down at the yellowed front. "What signal? How will I know the signal?" He looked up from the envelope to see the rusted metal door closing shut, the nurse's white skirt disappearing behind it into the dimly lit hallway.

His hands shook as he held the slightly torn enclosure in his grip. The envelope looked as if it had been sealed quite some time ago considering the coffee ring stain and the faded color. There was nothing important written on either side other than a sloppy cursive "Josh" on the front. The blue ink was smeared and turning discolored with age. It had to be some kind of medical record from Dr. Hill about his dischargement. Or, maybe it was from his parents or the police department. Maybe it was from…

But, why wouldn't he be allowed to open it? _Who_ was going to get mad at him if he peeked before the unidentified signal? The entire thing was completely ridiculous… Were they watching him? Had they been spying on him the entire time he was there? Is that how some of the nurses and doctors knew such miniscule details about what he did throughout the day?

Josh's eyes darted to the upper corner of the room, searching for any indication of a hidden security camera. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, the white slippers the hospital had provided sliding on the tile. Behind him, he tossed the envelope on the mattress, more concerned with a potential breach of his privacy than the mysterious letter. He made his way to the side, standing directly at the edge as he tilted his head back to get a better view of the ceiling.

 _No_ , he thought as he stumbled backwards, _The ceiling is too obvious. Anyone would think of that_ … If the hospital had placed any sort of hidden recording device, it would have been in something they provided. It would be hidden in place where no one would see it…

He hurried over to the small writing desk along the left side of the wall, taking a moment to study the set up. There were very few objects on it, and the few that were were guarded or nailed to the desk. In a single swift movement, he knocked all his papers, books, and journals to the ground, letting the loose leaf pages fly throughout the small room. His heart was racing inside his chest as he fell to his knees to feel under the desk for any sort of device that didn't belong.

There was nothing. Maybe… Maybe he was just being paranoid. No. No, he wasn't; it was just too coincidental what some of the staff knew about him. But, then again, maybe he had told them and he just forgot. It wasn't unusual for him to forget -

The lamp. He pulled himself up from the ground and brought his eyes level to the light. The lightbulb was guarded by a small metal cage to prevent patients from removing it to use as a weapon. He reached for the switch and powered it off, sticking his fingers in between the grate to feel for a planted device. After a moment of frustrating searching, his fingers grazed against a small metallic box.

His heart stopped. With a grunt, he dislodged it and held the part in the palm of his hand, studying it up close; in the center, a tiny red light flashed on and off in a perfect regular beat. His entire body began to shake… They'd been listening. They had heard the late night conversations he had with himself, talking about the things he only wanted himself to know. They had to have told Dr. Hill, right? Maybe he wasn't going to be discharged. Maybe it was all a trap.

A pounding sound from outside the door startled him, causing him to drop the recording device. With his breath stopped, he reached down to grab it, stuffing it into the pocket of his sweatpants. The door widened, revealing one of the staff nurses he had gotten to know quite well throughout his stay. Or, he did know anyone? They surely seemed to know him.

"Josh, I -" The nurse cut himself off as he stood in the doorway, taking in the scene of the nearly destroyed room. He brought his hands to the nape of his neck, rubbing the spot. "Oh, wow… Yeah, okay… We'll worry about this later. Did Nurse Mack come by to tell you about the storm?" Josh nodded, remaining silent and still as he cautiously eyed the nurse, "Alright, good… Um… I need you to come with me, think you can do that?"

"Why?" He raised his brow; he could feel the device heating up inside his pocket, begging to draw attention to itself - trying its hardest to get him in trouble. It was working against him. Did they know he had removed it?

"You have visitors waiting for you," The nurse explained.

Josh tilted his head as his eyes widened in confusion, "It's past visitation hours," He could feel his heartbeat rising once again; what if something was wrong. Did this have anything to do with the envelope? _Oh shit_ , he thought, _the envelope_. Out of his peripheral view he saw it laying in the center of his bed, in plain sight for anyone to see.

The nurse stared at him, his hand returning to the back of his neck, "I… It's an emergency."

He felt his stomach sink. It was bad, he knew it was bad. If the nervousness of the nurse wasn't enough to give it away, the fact his loved ones were allowed to speak to him (and making their first visit this late into his stay) past hours was clear enough. With a nod, he removed his hand from his pocket, hoping the device wouldn't cause any trouble. The nurse gave him an empty smile as he widened the door, letting Josh step out into the hallway before leading the way.

There were a few uncomfortable seconds of silence as they made their way down the darkened, empty corridor. From outside one of the large windows, a bright flash of lightning cracked against the black sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder that caused Josh to jump.

He felt a sturdy hand on his shoulder that burned to the touch, "It's alright, man; you're safe in here."

Josh compliantly nodded as he moved his eyes to the floor, watching his feet as they travelled down the hallway. He listened to the sound of his shuffling footsteps echoing throughout the silence, matching along to the pace of the nurse's. It felt as if the corridor was infinite, stretching on forever just to prolong the wondering torture. Every door they passed looked the same. Maybe it was torture. Maybe they already knew he removed the device. Maybe there were no visitors.

He couldn't go on; he stopped walking, his white slippers stuck to the ground. It took a moment for the nurse to realize he had been continuing alone. Josh lifted his head toward the nurse, keeping his eyes off of his. "Who are the visitors?"

"I'm not sure," The nurse shrugged, "I didn't actually seem them; I was just told to come get you."

He frowned, "I need to know who it is or I'm not going."

"Josh," The nurse sighed heavily, the rings around his eyes showing, and he slightly chuckled as he reached out to put his hand on the back of the shorter man's shoulder. Josh flinched, disturbed by the sudden touch. The nurse didn't seem to notice, or care, and gave him a slight shake. "You do know where you are, right?" He paused, waiting for Josh to acknowledge him, "I'm sure it's just your parents. There's no need to be hesitant; we haven't done anything distrustful to you."

 _Yeah_ , Josh thought, the heat radiating from the device, nearly burning his skin through the fabric of his sweatpants, _nothing at all_.

With a forced nod, he began to walk down the corridor, suddenly weary of the nurse beside him. It was going to be fine. It was going to be fine. It was going to be fine. It was going to be fine.

"Alright, just go through this door right there, and I'll be out here waiting for you when you're finished," The nurse looked over at him, giving him a light smile, "It's alright, go on through; they're waiting."

Josh's palms began to sweat. He rubbed them against the sides of his sweatpants, but it didn't matter; the perspiration was excessive. The door had a frame in the middle with a small window that peered into the dull room. In the center, there was a metal table, nailed to the floor, but no one was sitting in the matching chairs. Concerned, he turned his head back to the nurse who replied with a silent nod of the head. _You're stalling_ , he told himself, _just open the door_.

After he did, he wished he hadn't.

Behind him, the door flew shut, the _whoosh_ echoing throughout the small room. In the corner, two smaller-shaped figures stood with their backs to him, hiding in the shadows. His feet were plastered to the floor, keeping him trapped and vulnerable in front of the door. Every part of his being told him to run, but there was no where to go.

"Hello, Josh," One of the figures growled. His breathing stopped; the only noise that could be heard was the fast pace of his heart. It was too much; it was going to explode. This couldn't be happening. No way. This was impossible.

He shook his head repeatedly, taking a step back towards the door, "No, this isn't… You're not real. Leave me alone, you're not real."

The two figures turned to face him, their faces still covered by the darkness. After a beat, they stepped forward, hand-in-hand, and paused once they reached the light. Their skin was pale and covered in hardened mud. They were both wearing identical light blue dresses, torn, scratched, and bloody in various places.

"We are real, Josh," One of the girls taunted, "As real as you are."

He shook his head frantically, his throat tightening while his voice cracked, "No," He could feel the tears building up in his eyelids as the blood rushed to his cheeks. The room had turned ten degrees cooler, and his breath showed as he spoke. His back was completely pressed against the door, and he reached behind him to pull the handle, but it remained shut. "You aren't real."

"Why did you do this to us? Don't you care about Beth and I?" She stepped closer to him, revealing her scratched skin and matted hair. She snarled as he whimpered to himself, "Why did you kill us, Josh?"

He started crying, unable to hold in the tears any longer, "No… No… I didn't… I didn't do it… Please, it wasn't me. I didn't even know what was happening."

"Maybe if you weren't too busy getting blackout drunk you could've done something to save us. Your negligence _killed us_ ," Hannah spat, her grip tightening on her sister's fragile hand.

Josh let his back slide against the metallic door until he sat on the ground, an awful screech coming from the movement. He pulled his knees to his chest, bringing his head down into his legs, closing his eyes as tight as he could. He rocked forward, sobbing in between his babbling, "No… No… No… You're not real. You're not real. You're not real."

Beth lowered herself to the ground and placed her cold hand on her brother's knee. Her hair was matted and her face was dirty; there was a deep slash on her cheek that showed the inside of her mouth. The lacerations and contusions decorated her body, barely kept hidden by her torn and faded dress. Her skin was pale and translucent; it looked as if all her organs were on display for the world to see.

"Josh, look at me," Her voice was soft as she waited for him to do as she delicately asked. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he brought his head up to hers, unable to look into her dark eyes. His bottom lip quivered as he stared into the darkness behind her. Beth lifted her limp hand from his knee and brought it to the side of his face, her cold touch sending a shiver down his spine. She smiled lightly while she kept her hand on his cheek, feeling him tremble beneath her touch. "We know that you didn't mean to, but you did. It's going to haunt you for the rest of your life, and that's just the way it has to be. If we had to suffer, then so do you."

Before he could register her words, he felt a sharp sensation against his face. His jaw dropped as the skin on his cheek burned from the sudden touch. Beth shoved herself away from his body and stood up, towering over him. "You're so pathetic, Josh. You're lucky enough to still be alive and you can't even appreciate it; you got yourself stuck in here. This is all you're going to be from now on," She gestured to him rocking back and forth while he whimpered, trying to drown out her words with anything else he could think of. "You're always going to be a fucked up lunatic."

" _Leave me alone!_ " He shouted, shutting his eyes as tightly as he could while he trembled. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't be real. Hannah and Beth were gone. This was a hallucination. It had to be. How did he even get here? The moments that led up to him entering the visitation room had to have happened… Someone had to have escorted him out of his room and into this one.

The nurse. It was the nurse that told him about the visitors. But, he _knew_ the nurse - he trusted him. Did he, though? Could he trust any of them anymore? Which of the people he had seen throughout the night were real and which were tricks being played on him by his untrustworthy brain? Was the nurse still waiting on him outside? Could he hear the screaming? Did he make him see his sisters?

He had to find out; the nurse was his only sense of sanity left, regardless if he could trust someone at the institution or not. After mustering all the courage he had left in him, Josh opened his eyes, waiting for one of his sisters to conjure some new method of torture for him. But, they were gone - they had vanished to who knows where, it didn't matter.

Using the long door handle as support, he lifted himself up from the cold ground, his entire body shaking as he adjusted himself to his higher position. There was a new, haunting chill that filled the room - the kind of chill that felt like it was crawling up the skin, a parasite looking for a way to get in. His eyes darted around the room; the girls were definitely gone. He pressed the handle on the door, and much to his surprise, it swung open, freeing him from the torture chamber more commonly known as the visitation room.

The nurse was nowhere to be seen. He scrunched up his face, fearing that maybe the nurse was a figment of his fucked up imagination. The lights down the hallway flickered, the zapping noise filling up the emptiness and confirming his loneliness.

"Nurse?" He called out into the empty building, anxiously awaiting any sort of reply. When one wasn't received, he sighed, feeling the shakiness in his hands intensify. Josh began to wander through the waiting center, hoping that maybe the nurse had excused himself to the restroom for a moment.

He was real, though. This was the nurse that usually gave him his medicine in the morning, the nurse that checked up on him throughout the day. He was real. There was some doubt surrounding the existence of his sisters, but the nurse was -

"Oh, shit!" Josh cursed as he abruptly stopped, his entire body freezing. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him - it was undoubtedly the worst thing he had ever seen. When things began to register in his mind, he felt nauseous, his mushy dinner threatening to come back to him. He brought his hands to his head, holding on to the sides of his face in shock, "No, this cannot be happening. This is not real. Fuck… No…"

On the wall, hung by the throat by a series of rusted chains, the nurse's body swayed slightly. His all-white uniform had been drenched in blood from the multiple lacerations across the front of his body. One of his shoes were missing, along with his big toe. His body had been slashed from the throat down, his bloody intestines spilling out of the opening. But, the worst part - as if the rest wasn't awful enough - was the decapitated pig's head that had been placed over his own, his beaten, bruised face sticking out through this pig's mouth. On the wall, written in a dripping ooze of blood, the words " _This little piggy should've stayed home!_ " stared back at him.

"Oh, no, no, no…" Josh fell to the ground, shaking his head as he held it in his hands. The blood was pouring off the nurse's body, forming a puddle on the white tile. The drip echoed throughout the room, replaying over and over inside his head. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

This couldn't be real, could it?


	2. A Mother's Rhyme

**Ocean View Hospital, CA.  
10:00 PM. Hour Two.**

 _Here's the little piggy, see his snout  
Slit him open, and the guts fall out._

Josh's bottom lip quivered as he crawled away from the grotesque scene in front of him. The palms of his hands slid against the cold tile until his back was pressed against the hard, concrete wall. The nurse's body hung, swaying slightly from the air condition's breeze, taunting him from the other side of the room. The pig's dead eyes pierced through him; its snout was slashed and its left ear was torn. The nurse's mouth was agape, frozen in time calling out a scream that no one had heard.

None of this could be real. This was a hallucination or a horrible dream. Did he… Did he kill the nurse? He couldn't remember. No, no he didn't. This was something else. This was something out of his control. _His control_.

He rolled the sleeve of his white shirt up, revealing the skin of his forearm. His body was shaking and freezing, waiting for the adrenaline to set in. As he closed his eyes, he grabbed a bit of his skin, watching as the area turned white from the lack of blood flow.

"Fuck," He hissed as he let the back of his head collide against the wall, his dark hairs scratching against the cool plaster. Looking down at his arm, he watched the skin turning red, contorted by his self-inflicted injury. He wasn't sure if he had felt any pain or not - his entire body was numb. It could still be a dream. This didn't have to be real.

Josh took a deep breath and braced himself for the sharp sensation that stung his cheek. "Shit!" He cursed as he could feel his handprint burning into his skin. He opened his eyes only to find himself staring at the nurse's dead body. He wasn't waking up.

If he wasn't going to wake up or snap out of it, he had to just keep going. The reality was beginning to set in that he was going to have to fend for himself in a strange environment, in a place where no one could be trusted. But, there had to be other people still left in the hospital - finding them would be his first priority.

Keeping his gaze away from the nurse, he lifted himself up from the ground, brushing the dust from his all-white outfit. Outside, the storm raged on, bright flashes of light cracking against the blackened sky. The thunder was intense; each boom caused the building to shake. The lights were still flickering, threatening at any moment to shut off, leaving him wandering about the large institution in the darkness.

Down the corridor, a door labelled "Supply Closet" caught his attention. As he wandered closer, he said a silent prayer that it would be unlocked, granting him access to whatever supplies he was going to need. He extended his arm to reach for the metal door handle and gave it a turn. Much to his surprise, it opened, revealing a small, dark closet lined with shelves. He reached out for the golden chain that was hanging from the ceiling, pulling it to fill the area with a limited amount of light.

A few boxes of medical supplies, batteries, and emergency food cases lined the shelves, filling the room from floor to ceiling. Josh stepped into the room, his eyes darting between the shelves until he found a few spare flashlights. He grabbed two of them, keeping a smaller one in his free pocket in case of an emergency. He backed out of the closet, closing the door behind him, and hoped that the storm would clear out soon.

He began to walk down the abandoned hallways, the only sound coming from the soles of his white slippers shuffling against the floor. At the end of the corridor, an emergency exit door was blocked off, separating him from the outside world by just a few pieces of wood. Using all of his strength, he grabbed at the planks, grunting as he pried them away from the sides of the door. The wood was rotten; the foul smell that emitted from the pieces confirmed they had been there for a while. When the door was free, he reached for the handle, frustrated when he discovered it was locked from the other side. He jolted the metal handle, jumping when it separated from the door and crashed against the ground.

There had to be another way; this was a hospital and not a prison, after all (or so he once thought). Before turning back down the long corridor, he forced his body against the door, banging on it multiple times before giving up. As he followed his original path back toward the waiting center, he listened for the sounds of other patients or staff. Surely someone had to have heard the screams from the visitation room. And, beyond that, there was still the mysterious person that killed the nurse. He wasn't alone.

How the hell did all this happen? How long ago had it been since he was laying in his lumpy bed flipping through the stale pages of a book he had read many times before? It felt like an eternity had passed since his walk from his room to the visitation center. Maybe this was all some sort of sick, twisted test to see if he was actually ready to be discharged. Maybe there was no dischargement. The -

"Shit!" He cursed as an intense clap of thunder roared from the outside. The lights flickered fiercely until, finally, the power shut off, leaving him alone in the darkness of the hospital. He couldn't see anything that was in front of him, not even the flashes of lightning from the outside. The world stilled for a moment, but only for a moment.

He remembered the flashlight he had taken from the supply closet and slid it out of his pocket, fumbling around in the dark before he flicked the switch on. The light was dim at first, but it grew, illuminating the emptiness of the hallway. There were various piles of debris scattered across the empty floor; one of the windows had busted from the harsh storm outside, which resulted in shards of glass lining the ground. Carefully, he stepped over the sharp pieces, cautious not to let his thin slippers get caught on one.

Down the end of the hall, another emergency exit door was boarded. As he travelled his way past the discarded wreckage, he suddenly became quite weary of the fact he was wandering the hospital alone. There was a potential madman in the building, and he was defenseless and utterly alone.

Instead of making it to the end of the corridor, a dim light in the downstairs common room caught his attention. His heart began to race as he wondered if someone else had been trapped inside the building, too. A static noise began to fill the area, growing louder with each step that he took. The vibration from _whatever_ was making the sound began to hurt his ears, haunting him with a ringing sound he couldn't differentiate from the real thing.

With his flashlight powered off and clenched close to his chest, he held his breath as he pressed his back against the wall just outside the common room archway. For a moment, he listened, trying to distinguish any possible footsteps or words, but all that filled the silence was the awful static. His throat was beginning to tighten as his palms perspired, barely able to grasp onto the flashlight. Beneath the static, a strange noise began, something similar to a cheery melody.

The tune continued, echoing throughout the room as it increased in volume. The light that illuminated from somewhere inside was brighter and flickering as different shaped shadows decorated the floor and walls. With his entire body shaking, he closed his eyes and braced himself for whatever he was about to see - for whatever was about to happen.

He turned the corner, his breath caught in his chest as he opened his eyes. In the common room, there was no one, and absolutely nothing, except for a small TV that had been placed on the wooden coffee table in the center of the room. The television had been turned to face the back of the room, and as Josh walked closer to examine it, the static and melodic tune grew louder. The screen flickered against the opposite wall, and he listened to his heartbeat increase as he approached the box.

As he stood in front of it, he watched the rolling static on the black and white screen. The lines were different shapes, ranging from rectangles from large widths to small. The colors varied from dark grays to lighter shades, and they wound about the screen in a rhythmic loop. He was such an idiot, someone had just left the TV on from earlier and the storm caused it to mess up. But, how come…

"Hello there," A deep, static voice emitted from the television. Josh jumped, dropping the flashlight on the ground as he kept his eyes glued to the screen.

"Oh, fuck!" He exclaimed as he watched the TV transition from the lines of gray to a gritty outline of a man. Josh leaned forward, squinting his eyes as he hovered in front of the box, trying to decipher what was happening in front of him.

Suddenly, the picture became a bit clearer, but was still dusty and scratched. In the center of the screen, a man's head had been replaced by a pig's head, but the human eyes were still showing from the gouged out sockets of the pig's. The snout had been sliced, just like the one that had been placed on the nurse's head, and Josh could make out the grainy outline of a mouth from underneath. He started shaking his head as his entire body shook. What the hell was happening?

"If you're hearing this, I feel bad for you!" The man on the screen chuckled as his voice came out distorted. In his hand, he held a large knife, which was drenched in a dark liquid that dripped to the ground beneath him. He tilted his head to the side, the pig's head moving with him. From under the snout, he grinned as he held up a bloody foot in his opposite hand, "This little piggy went to the market -"

He paused for a moment to slice through the big toe of the foot. Josh gagged as he watched the appendage fall to the floor, followed by a soft thud. The man started up again with a chuckle, "This little piggy stayed home - smart one, that is," He laughed manically as he continued to cut through the remaining toes, "This little piggy had roast beef; this little piggy had none! And, this little piggy," He held onto the pinky of the foot, wiggling it around in the air for a moment, "Well, this little piggy went _wee, wee, wee, all the way home!"_

After the rhyme ended, the television shut off, the static and tune finally ending. "Oh, God," Josh cried out as he held onto his stomach, feeling ill for the second time that night. This was a nightmare - a horrible fucking nightmare. No, it was worse because it felt so… _real_. The twins, the nurse, the man on the television, it was all so real. But, how? How did he become trapped in the world of something he'd watch in one of his favorite films?

He couldn't stay here any longer. Forget all the rest of the patients, forget the staff and the doctors who were watching his every move throughout his stay. Forget his family and his friends who never cared enough to visit him. Hell, forget his fucking sisters who haunted him while he was awake. Every part of his being was screaming at him, telling him this was just another hallucination he needed to wade through, but he couldn't believe it. This was real. This was real, and he had to find a way to survive.

The door at the end of the corridor had the potential of leading him to the outside. Disregarding the television in the center of the room, he collected his flashlight and headed out of the common room, back toward where he was originally headed. He shone the light down the hallway, pointing it toward the boarded up doorway. When he approached, he noticed red letters painted across the planks, oozing down to the tile below.

" _Wee, wee, wee_ ," Josh mumbled under his breath as he read what had been scribbled on the wood. With a slight shake of the head, he placed his light on the floor and curled his fingers around the boards, grunting as he pulled them apart and tossed them to the side. He reached to wipe a bead of sweat from his hairline as he felt for the last piece of wood, almost prying it away from the door when a noise from behind stopped him.

"Boy, there ain't no use wastin' your time on that - every door in this building's locked or missin' its knobs."

Josh twirled around as he felt his heart stop. He pointed his flashlight in the direction of the voice and took in the sight of an older man standing behind him. The other man was wearing similar clothes to Josh; the all-white uniform was familiar to those who were registered patients at the hospital. The man took a step back and held his hands up in the air, eyeing Josh suspiciously. "Now, don't do anythin' rash, my boy. You need my help."

"Get the fuck away from me," Josh shook his head violently, "I'm getting out of here without anyone's help."

The man chuckled, rather inappropriately, and took a step forward, which caused Josh to take a defensive stance. "What's your name, boy?" Josh stood silent, which caused the other man to frown, "C'mon, you can trust me; we're in this together… Did you see the message on the TV?"

Josh nodded, keeping his body tight. Who the hell was this guy? "Yes."

"Alright," The man said calmly, "I saw it, and I saw the nurse back there in the waitin' center. Young man, if you wanna get out of here - _alive_ \- we need to work together. It's not gonna be easy with all these damn doors bein' locked. I'm not sure what kind of psycho put this mess together, but it's bad. Now, my name's Dade Risset. Dade's just my nickname, but you can call me Risset. Now, what's your name, boy?"

"J-Josh," His throat was suddenly dry as he croaked out his own name. The word sounded unfamiliar to him and made him sick to his stomach. It felt sour in his mouth. He didn't even recognize the sound of his own voice; he felt like a robot trapped inside human flesh with mechanical parts grinding against his organs. _Josh. Sounds like a bastard._

Risset nodded, "Alright, Josh, I'm gonna need ya to trust me, okay?" He waited for him to register his words before he began, "Let's get goin'."

He turned and headed back down the corridor, but Josh remained frozen in place, his flashlight still tight in his grasp. "Wait," Risset turned around to face him, an annoyed look plastered on his aging face. "What about any survivors?"

"Yeah," He nodded, bringing his fingers to his chin to scratch the area for a moment, "If we see any along the way, we'll grab 'em - no one deserves to be in this hell. Oh, and don't call 'em survivors no more; there ain't no such thing."

Josh scrunched up his face, "What?"

Risset gestured as he shook his head, "Survivors? Sure, some of us live and some of us die, but you ain't the same. You spend the rest of your nights thinkin' about it, wonderin' what could have gone differently to stop it. It haunts you. It follows you everywhere. It's your personal ghost and you can't escape it. Hell, you start thinkin' that maybe you'd be better off dead. And, the hard truth is: you would be… You would be…" He nodded to himself, lost somewhere within his own thoughts, before he brought himself back to the twisted reality they were living in, "I think you understand what I'm sayin', don't ya? Shame since you're so young, but you got that look in your eyes. That look that says you've been through somethin' you ain't comin' back from… If we make it out of this, Josh, just remember: there ain't no such thing as martyrdom - just a whole lot of pain."

* * *

 **Finally, chapter two! I've finally gone through and edited so there should be a ton less typos (lmao) but I'm still not too thrilled with the meeting between Josh and Risset. This evening I may work on it and fix it up, so if I do, I'll mention it in the next chapter for anyone who might be interested. Anyway, shout out to TheCarnivalAct and Sapphire Sunsets for your kind reviews!**


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